Open Minded
by OogieBoogie
Summary: Hermione refuses to speak her mind lately. That's until she was cast by a spell. And now, as if through a powerful Sonorus Charm, her innermost thoughts can be heard by anyone within six feet of her – including Draco Malfoy, of course. Post-Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Bunch o' wizards belong to J.K. Rowling. Story's mine, la di da di da.

**Rating: **M for later chapters.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Hermione refuses to speak her mind lately. That's until she was cast by a spell. And now, as if through a powerful Sonorus Charm, her innermost thoughts can be heard by anyone within six feet of her – including Draco Malfoy, of course.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

"Hermione, this just isn't working."

Hermione tore her eyes away from her wine glass and met the eyes of David. He was looking at her sadly – almost pitifully – and Hermione began to fiddle around with the rim of her wine glass.

David grabbed her hand from the glass gently, and took her other free one and held them both in the middle of the expensively clothed table in the restaurant.

"Hermione, _darling_," David cooed. "I know this is difficult. It's difficult for the both us. But we can't keep running away from this. We can't keep denying things and pretend everything is alright."

Hermione remained silent.  
>"Thing is," David continued and gave her hands a gentle squeeze, "I feel like I don't know you at times. It feels like you're so far away from me. You feel distant, and I admit, I don't know what's running through your mind at all. You <em>never<em> speak your mind."

Still, Hermione remained quiet.

David sighed and let go of her hands. He then proceeded to tear the napkin off his lap and slammed it unto the table.  
>"This is exactly what I mean. I'm breaking up with you, Hermione. Goodbye." With that, he stood up and left, muttering something that sounded like 'don't know', 'what's wrong with the woman' and 'no backbone.'<p>

Hermione let out a long, deep breath.

"Your order, madam." The waiter came by and set her food down in front of her. She silently thanked the waiter and proceeded to pick up the fork and knife, ready to dig into her Spicy Lime-Cilantro Marinated Flank steak. "Will you be dining alone, madam?"  
>"Yes, as usual," she said, letting out a bitter laugh.<br>"Very well, madam. What about the order the previous gentleman had made?" He asked politely.  
>"Just bring it here, I'll have it," Hermione replied, feeling like she needed the extra food.<br>"Right away, madam."

Hermione began cutting through her steak and shoving meat pieces into her mouth, trying to fight the onslaught of tears.

_Stupid David. Stupid David and his stupid opinions._ She thought. _Glad he's gone. Good sodding riddance. _

She paused her frantic eating to gulp down a large amount of wine.

"Never speak my mind," Hermione muttered, violently cutting her steak. "Never speak my mind, do I? And that seems to be the problem? I thought you stupid men like women like that. No? I guess nothing is ever good enough."

Her mind returned to the moment when Ron had broken up with her, just over a year ago. He had broken up with her because she spoke her mind _too much_. He left her for another girl who, safe to say, clearly didn't have much of a mind at all. She was an amateur model, Erica, who was literally a walking make-up store. The foundation she put on her forehead was enough to cover Hermione's face alone, Hermione was sure. Hermione had then wondered why Erica was attracted to Ron in the first place. It was probably because Ron was regarded as one of the War Heroes, right after Harry and Hermione herself, and he was still filthy rich and popular. No doubt Erica would get many privileges from Ron simply by dating him and by simply shutting up and not having any form of intelligent thought.

Hermione had then moved on, and met David Anthony Boswell. They had met at her colleague's party, and immediately seemed to hit it off. She had always remembered Ron's exact sentence, "_you speak your mind too much, and it makes me feel smothered! And nagged! Nobody likes to be nagged!_" and she had made it a point not to make any smart remarks to David.

And that apparently had cost her another man.

Life would start to become lonely again, Hermione knew. It was always like that. She would throw herself into work, and her friends would continuously urge her to go out more and meet more people. This time, though, she'd ignore it all. She'd just work, work, and work. There was nothing wrong with work. In fact, Hermione loved her job at the Ministry, as part of the Magical Law Enforcement Department.

There was nothing wrong with the people at work as well. Well, save for one man.

Draco Malfoy.

Ugh, there was nothing and everything wrong with the man. Despite their past history, Draco Malfoy turned out very well, if Hermione would say so herself. He was one of the top Aurors in the Ministry now and if that wasn't enough to impress a person, he had turned out to be quite the looker. Actually, _very much_ the looker.

So much so that it had Hermione harbouring one of the deepest, wildest and nonsensical crushes on Malfoy.

Of course, Hermione would never admit that out loud. She would pretend to not bother whenever he was around, and ignore his endless trail of fawning office girls. They didn't speak much, just a casual call of their surnames and an acknowledging nod when they crossed paths and that was it. Outside, she would seem indifferent – disinterested, even. Inside her haven, however, she would think constantly about the man. About how his silky-looking messily-styled platinum blond hair seemed to beg Hermione to run her hands through it, about how his eyes are so stunningly grey and almost silver, about how he was no longer the lanky teenager from Hogwarts but a well-built sturdy man with an air of assurance and confidence around him. Not to mention that from the very top of his head to the tip of his toes seemed to scream 'SEX APPEAL!' There were a couple of times, while crossing Malfoy's path, she would get a whiff of his smell, and _ungh_, did he smell divine.

Oh God, just the mere thought of him made Hermione's mouth water and made her completely forget about her minutes-only break-up with David.

She smiled to herself before she put the last piece of steak into her mouth.

Draco Malfoy was a great distraction, and a great crush.

So long as he remained in her mind.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

"You broke up with David?" Ginny eyes widened.  
>"Yes, last week," Hermione replied, as she set two empty cups on her kitchen counter before pouring hot tea into them.<br>"And you never mentioned this why?" Ginny prodded.

Hermione took a deep breath.  
>"It didn't seem important."<br>"But why, Hermione, why? I thought everything was all perfect, fine and dandy! I swear I could see you walking down the aisle to meet him at the altar!"  
>"Well, apparently we couldn't see as far as you," Hermione let out a short laugh.<br>"Why did he break it off?"  
>"Apparently, I never speak my mind," Hermione handed Ginny her cup of tea.<p>

"Oh," Ginny said shortly, "Shame."  
>"Indeed."<p>

Hermione opened her refrigerator and took out the marble cake and set it on the table. Ginny eyed it hungrily before turning her attention back to Hermione.

"You used to be able to speak your mind so often, what happened?" Ginny asked.  
>"Well, those days are long gone, along with the relationship with your brother," Hermione looked at her pointedly.<br>"I miss that Hermione," Ginny admitted. "You used to be the most headstrong of us all, always having your opinion, always telling people what was right or wrong."

Hermione sighed.  
>"Can we not talk about this, please?" Hermione said, cutting a few pieces of marble cake and setting them on an empty plate.<br>"I refuse. You know what, we're going to have to change things," Ginny said.  
>"And how exactly are we going to do that?" Hermione said noncommittally.<br>"I miss the old you, and frankly, the world needs the old you back. You need to speak your mind again!"  
>"But I don't want to, not anymore!" Hermione retorted. "It's not going to change anything!"<br>"It is. Wait and see."  
>"Well, good luck with that, because I'm not going to do <em>anything<em> about it."

Hermione stuffed a piece of marble cake into her mouth, and Ginny drew out her wand.  
>"Who says you're going to have to?" Ginny grinned wickedly, and aimed her wand at Hermione, "<em>Cogitationes amplificare!"<em>

Hermione's eyes widened, and she almost choked on her cake, "What did you just do?"  
>"Oh, just a little something something to help you speak your mind," Ginny winked and bolted towards the door, "I've got to run, dear. I have a date with Dean. See you later!"<p>

The door slammed shut.  
>Hermione rolled her eyes and continued eating her marble cake. She was about to ponder on what spell Ginny had most likely cast on her, before she was disturbed by an unmistakable 'pop' of Apparition. She turned around.<p>

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed happily and threw her arms around Harry Potter, who hugged her back earnestly and was grinning widely.  
>"Missed you, 'Mione!" Harry said.<br>"I missed you too, how was Egypt?"  
>"It was alright, we won the match again, as usual," Harry said.<br>"That's great, Harry, I'm so proud of you!"  
>"How's everything though? How are you? How are things with David?" Harry stuffed a marble cake into his mouth, and sipped on Ginny's abandoned teacup.<p>

"Oh, umm. We broke up," Hermione said simply.  
>Harry sent her a sympathetic look, with a bulge on his left cheek, still chewing.<br>"Must I ask why?" He asked timidly.  
>"Umm, I never spoke my mind."<br>"What a shit reason," Harry said, sitting on the kitchen table.  
>"Oh, you know how it is. Nothing is good enough."<br>"But I miss the old you though, the opinionated one."  
>"Oh, no. Not you too."<p>

She turned to her sink and began to wash her dirty dishes (she preferred doing it the Muggle way).

"It is true, though. I'm being honest," Harry said from behind her, no doubt finishing her marble cake.

_Men are a bollocking nightmare. Nothing is ever good enough. They should each come with a handy manual, at least I'll be able to read through and understand them perfectly before jumping into a relationship with them, _she thought.

Harry laughed from behind her.

"What?" Hermione asked.  
>"What you just said, that sounded so much like the old Hermione."<br>"What are you talking about, Harry? I never said anything," Hermione turned and looked at her best friend.  
>"The one where you said men should come with a handy manual, so that you'll be able to read them like a book before doing anything with them," Harry said, swinging his feet.<p>

Hermione's eyebrows knitted.  
>"Goodness, did I say that out loud?"<br>"You didn't just say, it was more like you shouted it. It was really loud," Harry answered.  
>"Hmm," Hermione hummed in confusion, and turned back to her dishes. "I must be stressed out."<br>"You probably are, you need a break."

_You've known me your entire life, Harry, and you should know better than to think that I would actually take a break. The day I take a break is the day pigs fly_, Hermione thought.

"You are right," Harry laughed, "But save it for another day, when you feel like heeding my advice, do take a break."  
>This time, Hermione looked sharply at Harry.<p>

"What?" Hermione asked.  
>"I was answering you; you said the day you take a break is the day pigs fly. Merlin, Hermione, are you going deaf as well?" He knocked the side of her head twice.<br>"But Harry, I never said anything. This time I am _positive_ that I didn't say it out loud."  
>"Funny, like I said, it was like you were shouting it."<p>

Something clicked in Hermione's brain, and her eyes widened.

_Oh, no._

"Oh, no what?" Harry was cutting another piece of marble cake.  
>"Harry, ask me something."<br>"Umm, would you like to know what Ron's sex life is like?" Harry said randomly.

Hermione shut her mouth.  
><em>Well, I'd rather go vomit and study the pattern of said vomit rather than know Ron's sex life in detail.<em>

Harry laughed out loud and slapped his knee.  
>"That was really funny, 'Mione! Good one!" He said, "'Mione?"<p>

Harry watched his best friend, looking dumbstruck and speechless (not a very normal occurrence at all), and frozen to her spot in the kitchen.

"Harry," Hermione started, "I think it was the spell Ginny had cast on me."  
>"What spell?"<br>"The _Cogitationes amplificare_ spell! If you translate it into English it means …" Hermione paused, "It means amplify thoughts! Oh, God, Ginny!" Hermione threw her head back in exasperation.

Harry stared at her blankly, "I still don't get what you mean."  
>"Quick, ask me another question, and this time watch my mouth as I make a reply."<br>"Okay," Harry looked around, searching for something to ask, "Hey, isn't this your famous delicious marble cake?"

Hermione kept her mouth shut.  
><em>No, I never bake. I can't bake. I just order it from a Muggle bakery and tell you people I baked it just so you all will think I'm a great baker.<em>

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.  
>"Your mouth didn't move, but I swear your voice was booming throughout the room."<br>"Oh, Jesus," Hermione clapped her forehead with her palm. "That Ginny. She's going to have to remove this spell!"  
>"Oh, Ginny? I just bumped into her at Ron's, she was so excited. Apparently, Dean had suddenly asked her out on a trip to New Zealand. She's gone by now," Harry said.<p>

Hermione almost fainted on the spot.

_What the fuck?_

"I know, right?" Harry said, "But it's cool though, you'll be like a ventriloquist."  
>"No, Harry, it's not cool! Can't you see, my thoughts are open and unfiltered! <em>Anyone<em> can hear my thoughts!"  
>"What is the difference between the old Hermione and now?" Harry grinned mischievously.<br>"You don't understand the gravity of the situation, Harry!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "I feel so vulnerable, so open to attack!"

"Oh, come on," Harry said, jumping off from the table and pulling her into a hug, "It won't be so bad. I've got to run, I have practice. Later, 'Mione," Harry kissed her cheek and Disapparated.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fucking fuckitty fuck!_  
>Hermione paced, and wrung her hands around, wondering what the hell she was going to do now.<p>

She can't possibly contact Ginny, she left no contact, no address – she left, just like _that_, leaving Hermione like _this_.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione avoided everyone at the office the next day, keeping to herself in her office. Had she any orders to pass on to her underlings, she would usually go and talk to them herself but provided that her mind was vulnerable to everybody around her, she sent flying notes to them instead.

She had popped into the Weasley's this morning, to find out if Ginny had left any contact details or not. Instead, she bumped into Ron.

"'Mione, what are you doing here?" Came Ron's surprised voice.  
>"Oh, well, umm," she started; it was still awkward being around Ron, "Did Ginny leave any contact details, by any chance? I am, umm, I desperately need it. It's urgent."<br>"No, not at all," Ron said, and suddenly Erica made an appearance – putting her arms all over Ron and kissing his neck, "Give the girl a break. I know you're lonely and all, but she does need time for herself and Dean."

Hermione glared at him.

_Fuck you, Ron._

Ron's eyes widened and Hermione Apparated to her office.

There she stayed, until now.

So far, no one had bothered her the whole day, and she was perfectly content with that.

_Well, maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought. I just have to wait for Ginny, and by then I'll just keep to myself._

She smiled happily, resuming work.

Just then, the door slammed open.  
>To reveal Draco Malfoy.<p>

Hermione's mind went blank.  
>"Malfoy."<br>"Granger," Malfoy acknowledged, clad in an all-black suit. "So sorry to bother you, but I was meant to get my report of the Thompsons' case. Unfortunately, my secretary was off sick today so I came by to pick it up myself."  
>"Oh, right. Okay," Hermione said, ignoring the loud thumping of her heart in her chest, "Just give me a second while I look for it."<p>

Malfoy nodded, and stepped into the office and began looking around and examining pictures on the wall. Hermione stood up and began looking through the files behind her desk.

_Thompsons. Thompsons. Thompsons. Thompsons. Thompsons? Nope, not Thompsons._

He heard Malfoy snicker behind her.  
>"Calm down, Granger. No one's life is in danger; you can take your time."<p>

Hermione's eyes widened.

_Fuck_.

"What's happened?" Malfoy asked.  
>"N-nothing, just hold on for a while."<p>

There was no reply, and Hermione assumed he was back to examining pictures.

_Fuck, I am so stupid_, Hermione thought, and grabbed her wand and _Accio'd_ the Thompson's case file. She turned around and saw that Malfoy was standing in the middle of her office, hands in his pockets. And he had never looked more delectable, _ever_.

She cleared her throat and handed the file to Malfoy, who took it.  
>"Thank you," Malfoy said.<br>"You're most welcome," she said, still standing.

Their eyes locked at that moment and neither wanted to look away.  
>She drank in every detail of him, trying to stop her mouth from watering.<p>

And his eyes, oh dear sweet Jesus, his eyes …

_I swear, if you continue to look at me like that I'm going to have this irrepressible urge to jump you and snog you silly and do all manner of unspeakable things to you and with you_.

Malfoy's eyes widened a little.

"Oh, fuck," Hermione muttered, lips barely moving and her own eyes widening beyond control.

Malfoy had heard that. Malfoy had heard that. Malfoy had heard that. Malfoy had heard that.  
>She felt herself redden – she was probably redder than a tomato and she clenched her fists.<br>Malfoy made no move to leave, and she was beginning to feel like she was going to spontaneously combust.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"I, umm, excuse me," Hermione said and she brushed past Malfoy, and exited her office, all the while thinking '_fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck', _earning a couple of looks from people who had heard her thoughts while passing her.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't get it," Harry said, when he came by for dinner that night. He now divides his time between visiting Ron and Hermione, since the both of them cannot be in the same room without concrete-thick tension, "Why can't you just lift the spell yourself?"

Hermione sent a death glare at him, and he dropped his cutleries to raise both his arms in surrender.  
>"I can't just simply <em>lift<em> this spell, Harry," she hissed at him.  
>"Why not? You're Hermione," Harry said naturally.<p>

Hermione couldn't help but grin at that.  
>"Thanks, but I'd rather not take my chances especially since my mind slash brain is at stake," she said, "It would be much safer if the caster himself or herself lifted the spell. Otherwise, you could risk brain or mind damage, and I would rather have mine safe."<p>

Harry shrugged.  
>"Well, I like this Hermione better. More like the old Hermione, but much more … <em>uninhibited<em>," he said, eyes narrowing with a mischievous smile on his lips.  
>"I don't, you know what happened today at the office -" She stopped herself before she could say any further.<br>"What? What happened?" Harry urged her.  
>"Nothing," Hermione said stiffly, and tried her best to distract her thoughts.<br>"You know, there is another reason why I like this spell," Harry leaned towards her, "Hermione, what happened today at the office?"

Hermione shut her eyes tightly.  
><em>I told Draco Malfoy I wanted to jump him, snog him and do all manner of unspeakable things to him and with him<em>.

She heard Harry take a sharp intake of breath. After a good five seconds, she opened her eyes, watching Harry in trepidation.  
>Surprisingly, Harry didn't look angry or bewildered.<br>"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded in reply, "But _why_?"

_Because the man is so handsome, so much more handsome than ever that it seems evil. He's smart, he's sexy, he's alluring, he's gorgeous, his arse –_

"Okay, okay!" Harry stopped her train of thought, eyes wide.  
>"It's just a crush, Harry, just a crush!" Hermione defended herself.<p>

_Actually, I'm half in love with him already._

Harry's eyes widened some more.  
>"Ugh, no, Harry. Don't trust me as of now," Hermione said.<br>"It really is okay, you know, if you really do like Malfoy like _that_ …" Harry paused, trying to contain his grimace, "I suppose we're all grown-up now … he seems alright now."  
>Hermione's mouth dropped open, "You're joking."<br>"No, I suppose after Ron and David, I think you need someone who matches you. And as weird as it may be, Malfoy seems to fit that role," Harry said.  
>"It's not like that, Harry. It's just a crush, it'll go away."<p>

_Yes, that's what I said months ago._

Harry looked at her with an amused expression.  
>"You do realize that you are a walking contradiction of yourself," he stated.<br>"I know," Hermione grumbled and buried her face in her palms, "I'm going to _kill_ Ginny."

Just then, a persistent tapping on the window roused Harry and Hermione from their thoughts of Draco Malfoy. Hermione looked up to see a giant, black _demonic-looking_ owl perched by her window with an envelope in its beak.

Harry took the liberty of standing up to go collect the envelope – which Hermione was thankful for because the owl attacked his finger.  
>"Ow! Stupid fucking owl," Harry immediately sucked his finger which was oozing droplets of blood, and he walked towards Hermione, giving her the envelope.<p>

Hermione tore it open.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I am so sorry to have left you hanging with the spell like that … NOT! HAHAHA!_

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry stood next to her to read by her shoulder, finger still in his mouth.

_Anyway, I know it's only been a day, but how are you? How are you coping with one of the most brilliant spells in the world? I will have you know that you cannot lift the spell yourself, smart as you may be, because it might give you brain damage and I assume it's something you don't want – ever. I know you'd rather kill than lose your mind._

_I promise you I will come back as soon as I can and lift the spell for you, though I can say for sure it won't be until very, very long. Weeks, maybe._

"Weeks!" Hermione cried, and Harry rubbed her back soothingly.

_This is for your own good. Anyway, got to dash. Do send my love to everyone over there – except Ron, I know, don't worry._

_Yours,  
>Ginny<em>

"This is ridiculous."

_P/S: You don't have to worry about the whole world hearing your thoughts. The spell only works within a six-feet radius. _

"There you go, good news," Harry pointed at the post-script, "Only works within six feet."  
>"Great. Not only I have to be careful about what I think about, I have to also be mindful of the distance between other people and myself. For weeks!" Hermione rolled her eyes so hard Harry feared it would get stuck.<p>

_And as for Draco Malfoy, I hope he forgets everything that I said today, stays away from my office and more than six-feet away from me._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione set to work the second she arrived in the office. She set up a six-foot invisible shield around her that wouldn't harm anybody, just make them take a step back.

She moved her guest chairs from her desk to right in front of the door, so that her colleagues or underlings wouldn't be privy to her thoughts.

She was called to a meeting earlier, but she hastily wrote a note to Kingsley Shacklebolt, explaining her situation in great detail and he excused her from the meeting. Sighing in relief as she read his reply, a smile began to form on her lips.

_I will deal with this. Imagine if Kingsley had insisted I attend the meeting, Malfoy will be there. He'd be looking at me curiously with those eyes, especially after my outburst yesterday. Oh, God. That was SO. EMBARRASSING._

Her heart lurched painfully in her chest, so much that she had to let out a grunt of, "_Ungh." _

She moved back to her desk and sank into the chair, sighing heavily as she eyed the truckload of paperwork on her desk. She grabbed one at random and began working. She worked meticulously and diligently, taking only a five-minute break between each case to fantasize about Malfoy. Malfoy in all black, Malfoy naked, Malfoy watching her, Malfoy kissing her … She shivered pleasantly. _Oh stop it, I like it._

_Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy._

The door slammed open.

"Malfoy!" Hermione yelped.  
>Grey eyes sought hers out before landing on the two guest chairs that were currently obstructing his path by pressing against his knees.<p>

"What's all this, Granger?" Malfoy asked, ready to push the chairs away to walk towards her desk, but Hermione raised her hands in alarm.  
>"Don't!" She yelled. Malfoy gave her a puzzled look.<br>"Is this your idea of redecorating? Moving the chairs right after the door?"  
>"Yes, I wouldn't want to trouble people by making them walk all the way here."<br>"It's only a ten-feet walk from the door to your desk, Granger," he stated, "It's not even considered _all the way there_."  
>"It's my office, Malfoy," Hermione said with no venom.<p>

Malfoy sniffed.  
>"Fair enough," he agreed and he sank into the chair, spreading his arms and crossing his legs as he did so. "I assume this peculiar arrangement of furniture is to your liking now."<p>

Hermione tried her best to not let her mouth water. Actually, tried her best not to let said watering mouth let any drool dribble down her chin.

"Yes, it is to my liking," Hermione relaxed and watched Draco spread out on the guest chair.

_I definitely like_, she thought and noted the fact that with this new view she would be able to see every single detail and movement of Draco Malfoy. Talk about sensory overload.

"Granger?" Malfoy started, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She snapped out of her thoughts.  
>"Like what?"<br>"Like a …" Malfoy's eyes narrowed and she could almost finish that sentence for him.

_Like a piece of meat._

She immediately eradicated the thought and began thinking unsexy thoughts. Snape with pimples all over his naked body.

Ugh, maybe that was too extreme. Snape naked was bad enough.

"Anyway," Hermione snapped back to her sane, professional self, "How can I help you, Malfoy?"  
>Malfoy smirked.<p>

And it no longer made Hermione want to punch him, but it made her want to kiss him all the more.

"You tell me, Granger," Malfoy practically purred her last name.  
>She blinked at him.<br>"What do you mean?"

His eyes flitted over her walls for a moment, and he stood up, before walking towards one of the paintings he had admired the day before.  
>Hermione told herself that she was not at all interested in how Malfoy's arse looked in those trousers (<em>simply delectable<em>), and had no intention of wondering how it would feel to squeeze them (_fantastic_).

Silence reigned for a moment.

He then started to stride towards her, which alarmed her.  
>"No, Malfoy, stay -" She began, but was interrupted by the sight of Malfoy hitting her shield, which made him make a step back almost violently – Hermione had no idea why or how, but Malfoy managed to make that action seem <em>so very sexy<em>.

"An invisible shield, Granger?" Malfoy said, and took his wand out, "Whatever for?"  
>Hermione watched him with a smirk.<p>

_I bet he won't be able to get rid of my extremely powerful shield charm._

Then with a flick of Malfoy's wand, Hermione felt her shield crumble around her and she was left so vulnerable, so open –

Malfoy strode towards her with the speed of lightning and the next thing she knew, he was already around her desk, one hand on her armrest, and the other on her desk – completely trapping her – and his nose leveled with hers.  
>Hermione almost whimpered at the proximity and it didn't help much that his smell was overwhelming her.<p>

_Oh, Jesus, don't you smell delicious!_

She swallowed nervously, knowing that Malfoy had heard that perfectly – loud and clear. Their eyes were still locked, and Malfoy was looking at her with an unfathomable expression.

"You've been avoiding everyone since yesterday, not very much like yourself, don't you think? And now your thoughts have been shouted out into the open air. Last I heard you couldn't make it to the meeting we had this morning," he said, his breath ghosting over her nose, "Pray tell, what ails you, Granger?"

Hermione's mouth didn't move for fear that if it did, it would _only move against Malfoy's lips_. She almost shivered at the very idea.

"Well, Granger?" Malfoy prompted, raising his eyebrows a little.

_Ginny cast the __Cogitationes amplificare spell on me and now anyone within six-feet of me will be able to hear my thoughts out loud._

Silence, as Malfoy studied Hermione's eyes again. Then he pulled himself back into an upright position, letting go of the armrest and her desk simultaneously.

"Oh," he purred, "_Really_?"

She flushed red the second he was at a considerably normal distance from her, wondering how on earth she had managed to stave off her blush while he was _that _close to her. It was dampened by shock, maybe.

"The Weaslette cast the Thought-Amplifying spell on you?" He looked amused.

_Yes. And I'm going to kill her as soon as she gets back. Well, get her to lift the spell first and then kill her._

"Is this some sort of revenge she had in mind for whatever you did to Weasel?" He asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  
>"Don't call them that – <em>what<em>? For what _I _did to Ron?" She scoffed.  
>"Yes, isn't that it? It was plastered all over the newspapers; apparently you left him broken-hearted because you were such a know-it-all."<p>

Her eyes flashed with something akin to hurt. She looked away from Malfoy and stared at her desk.

_Left me broken-hearted, you mean. Stupid Ron._

Malfoy watched her with a serious mien, and she shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze.  
>"Well," Malfoy said loudly, as if to break the awkward silence, "On to the nature of my visit to your office this afternoon."<p>

Hermione's eyebrows knitted.  
>"You're not done?" She asked curiously.<p>

_You mean you didn't come here to torment me as how you used to?_

"Oh, heavens no, Granger," he said, "I only came in here to tell you what you missed during the meeting earlier."

"How, umm, _nice _of you, Malfoy?" she replied, realizing that the end of the sentence sounded more like a question.  
>"I have my days. Anyway, we have a new case – the Otis case – serial killer, bizarre pattern, <em>blah blah blah, <em>you know how it is. This time though, since every other Auror is either incompetent or idiotic, and they're mostly busy with other cases -"  
>"What are you prattling on about, Malfoy?" I urged him to cut to the chase.<br>"Kingsley has appointed you as my pseudo-partner," Malfoy said, walking to her bookshelf and scanned through her collection, "You are to assist me in understanding our friend Otis' patterns, and eventually help in the arrestment of yet another threat to society."

Hermione's eyes widened for the billionth time lately.

_Partners with Malfoy? Work with Malfoy?_

The realization dawned upon her, the fact that she will be working with Malfoy, be within a close proximity of Malfoy, talking to Malfoy, listening to Malfoy – all the while still under the Thought-Amplifying spell!

"Oh no. No, no, no," she said warningly, beginning to stand up.  
>Malfoy flipped a book open and gave her a pointed look over his shoulder, "Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes."<br>"I am not working with you, Malfoy," Hermione said, "No offense, but it's nothing personal."

_It is actually, it is personal. So personal. I really can't have you listening to my innermost thoughts while we work!_

She cursed her own mind.  
>"Shame," Malfoy said flatly, reading through the book that he had flipped open, "Too bad you weren't there at the meeting, I'm pretty sure Kingsley would have loved to listen to what you had to say then."<br>Hermione groaned. Kingsley wasn't a man who would most likely change his mind once he had made his decision.

"But I don't want to," she said – whined, "Isn't there anybody else?"  
>"No, Granger," Malfoy said, flipping the book close and keeping it tucked under his arm, while he scanned through the rest of the bookshelf, "There isn't anybody else because I am absolutely certain that no one can compare to that <em>prodigious<em> brain of yours, problematic as it seems to be right now."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the almost-compliment.  
><em>Well, if I didn't know you so well, Malfoy, I'd say that was a compliment.<em>

Malfoy looked up from the bookshelf and took a step towards her desk.  
>"Face it, Granger. As much as the old me in Hogwarts would hate to admit it, you are one of the best in here. And you know how Malfoys deserve only the best."<p>

Hermione rolled her eyes.  
><em>Whatever.<em>

"I would be borrowing this book," Malfoy shook said book and made to leave her office, "We will start tomorrow morning, Granger. We will have to meet somewhere else to do our research, somewhere outside the Ministry." He paused by the door and turned to her, "Your place? Excellent." He left and shut the door before Hermione could even protest.

_Oh, Holy Jesus._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione was roused from sleep by a rather loud and persistent knocking on the front door of her flat. She got out of bed and stood up with a speed that contradicted her near-comatose state seconds ago, a habit that never died since the War.

She was fully awake within a second, albeit disheveled – and she made her way to the front door and opened it.  
>If habits didn't wake her with neck-breaking speed, the image standing before her certainly would have.<p>

There stood Draco Malfoy.  
>Dressed in a casual black-button down shirt, and dark blue jeans. Jeans! All of that nearly unhinged her brain, and made something shift in her stomach.<p>

Malfoy was watching her expectantly.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you doing here?" Hermione croaked.  
>"Why, Granger, hello to you too. I'm fine, thanks for asking," Malfoy answered nonchalantly and then pushed himself into Hermione's flat.<p>

Hermione was going to ask him what the hell was doing here _again_, at eight in the bloody morning but the words died in her throat, as she watched Malfoy look around her flat and wandered into the kitchen.

And she was surprised at how well Malfoy seem to fit in _her_ flat.

"Not too shabby," he called from the kitchen.  
>She shut the door and as soon as she was sure that Malfoy was more than six feet away, her mind went into frenzy.<p>

_Draco's in my kitchen. Draco's in my kitchen. Draco's in my kitchen. Draco's in my kitchen. Hang on!  
><em>Hermione frowned.  
><em>Since when did he become Draco?<em>

She walked into the kitchen as well and crossed her arms.  
>"And yes, I am still waiting to hear why you're here in my house at eight in the flipping morning," Hermione said and tapped her foot.<br>"To work. Did you forget, Granger? A serial killer is on the loose. We need to figure out his strategies and patterns," Malfoy replied, "Shall we get to it then? I assume you have a study so I shall be in there."

Hermione couldn't help but watch his arse as he left for her study.

"Nice pajamas, Granger!" Malfoy called before he shut the door of the study.  
>She looked down at her teddy-bear-patterned blue pajamas and groaned.<p>

They had started work almost immediately, Draco – _Malfoy, damn it!_ Malfoy in the study, and Hermione at the kitchen table. She figured it would be best if she just stayed the hell away out of the study, lest Draco – _Malfoy. Malfoy! _– lest Malfoy heard more of her inappropriately dirty thoughts about him while he was in the study, heck, dirty thoughts about him _and _her in the study. Or the kitchen table of which she was currently stationed at. Whichever. The sexual tension was high enough. Or at least, she felt like the air was thick with sexual tension whenever Malfoy popped in for a snack.

The man was incongruously and extremely sexy, how can one stop thinking about _that _piece of work? And _that _fine piece of arse?

Hermione continued with her research and was so into it that whenever Malfoy came in to tell her that he was going back to his place for a bit to collect some documents or for a quick shower (she was going to suggest that he shower in her flat but that would be a _very, very _bad idea for the both of them – Hermione would go batshit insane and poor Malfoy would be molested), she only replied with a 'hmmm'. She never took a break.

_Barnaby Otis. All of his victims had no clothes on, both male and female. Poor families, no property, no evidence of forced abduction, broken homes, asphyxia by strangulation, no valuables, body disposed of in an unusual manner – usually found near expressway ramp – body disposed of in an unusual manner, transported before or after death – similar fibers …_

Her brains were ticking madly.

_No motives. This man has no motives, he simply kills for pleasure. There would be no reason for a person to kill poor people from broken homes with no property and no valuables – and he's probably either Muggle-born or a half-blood, he must have a car … _

She quickly scribbled it down.

_He probably befriends his victims first, that's why there's no evidence of forced abduction ever – he probably takes the Polyjuice Potion before setting out to befriend his victims and kill them – yes, yes, and that's it! Now all there is to do is to string all these areas together to see where it leads to, this man apparently has a favourite place to look for his next kill -  
><em>  
>"Good God, Granger," Malfoy's voice shook Hermione out of her thoughts as he came into the kitchen, freshly showered and changed, "It's really loud in here. Take a break. <em>Stop thinking<em>. We need to get you to stop thinking."_  
><em>Hermione shook her head.

"I can't do that," Hermione stated, standing up to go grab a fresh cup of tea.

_Since when does Hermione Granger ever stop thinking?_

Malfoy seemed to study her for a moment, and as if he finally found the perfect solution, he stepped right towards her, grabbed her by the arms, effectively freezing her in place and then his hands grabbed her face and –

_Malfoy?_

Malfoy's lips crushed down on Hermione's.

At that, Hermione's brain seemed to have left the building because at that moment, her whole world went quiet.

She was so shocked by the movement that her lips opened slightly. Malfoy took this as permission and he slowly pushed his tongue into her mouth, and tentatively brushed against Hermione's. And, _oh my god_, that sent tingles racing down her spine, through her arms and legs – from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and fingers. Her entire world began tipping on its edge.

Hermione's tongue still moved tentatively against his and she immediately felt as if every nerve of hers was ablaze because, _sweet Merlin, _itwas glorious and delicious and intoxicating_ – _and _oh god don't you dare stop, don't ever stop _–

Malfoy tore his lips away from Hermione's and stepped back. Hermione opened her eyes (when did they close?), and blinked many times in attempt to focus back on everything around her after the kiss.

"Well, that worked, didn't it?" Draco announced and walked past her to grab a cup and began pouring hot tea into it.

Hermione still had trouble regaining control of her articulation.

"So, any leads?" Draco – Malfoy – ah _fuck it, _it's Draco after what had happened – leant against the kitchen counter and began sipping on his tea.  
>Hermione cleared her throat and began telling him her findings, and he seemed impressed, before he left to go to the study.<p>

Hermione kept blinking.

_What the fuck –_

She began fixing dinner, knowing that she would be too distracted and too _giddy_ to be able to focus on anything else.

"Granger," Draco's head popped into the kitchen, and Hermione's heart gave a pleasant lurch, "I'm going to call it a night, see you tomorrow."  
>"Oh, but aren't you going to stay for dinner?" Hermione said, making sure her tone wasn't pleading, because it's not like she wanted him to stay for dinner (even though she had cooked enough proportion for two), and it's not like she'd want him to help clean after dinner and possibly have a repeat performance of the kiss earlier –<p>

"You cooked dinner?" Draco sounded fairly surprised, and moved to stand next to her, watching her stir dinner in the pot, "I had no idea you could cook, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes.  
><em>I can't bake, but I can cook.<em>

"Is that so?" Draco said, looking impressed, "But I am sorry, Granger, I had promised Mother that I will visit the Manor and join her for dinner tonight. And plus I'm too bugged over this case to be able to join a decent meal. Perhaps after we close this case and we arrest the idiot, eh, Granger? I could take you out for a delicious meal."

Hermione gaped at his words and ignored the warm rush that accompanied them.

"Are you asking me out to dinner?" Hermione looked amused, "The Great Malfoy is asking the bookworm out to dinner?"  
>"Oh, come now, Granger. Surely we're all adults and properly grown-up by now, dinner wouldn't be much of a problem, would it? Besides, I have an excellent premise to take you out to dinner."<p>

"And what would that be?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Draco leaned in towards her, so much so that his nose almost brushed hers and her breath was ghosting over her lips.

"Granger," he said quietly.  
>"Yes?" Hermione answered breathlessly.<p>

"You," he whispered, "you fancy me, don't you?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and before anything could happen, her traitorous mind answered for her.

_Yes_.

Draco pulled himself back and looked happy with himself and he grinned at her.

"See you tomorrow, Granger."

With that, Draco left for the Manor, leaving a slack-jawed Hermione Granger in his wake.


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is why I decided to rate the story 'M'. Love scene! You have been warned! And do enjoy.**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

_Oh, Jesus. Oh sweet, sweet ball sacks of Merlin. _

That was the first thing that went through Hermione's head as soon as her eyes opened the very next day.

_Draco knows I fancy the fuck out of him_. Then her thoughts turned angry, _of course he bloody well knows! Your thoughts blatantly kept informing him!_

She groaned, stuffed her head into the pillow in hopes of suffocating herself before Draco turned up to continue working with her again. Unfortunately, all hopes of committing suicide failed miserably as her brain kept telling her to _stop it, you're going to kill yourself_ – to which she adamantly replied with a _that's the whole bloody point!_

She was going mad, she knew – not only mad for Draco Malfoy, but also mad because she was arguing with herself. She eventually got out of bed to get ready before eight, the time Draco arrived yesterday and she agitated herself further by putting too much effort on her hair, her clothes and everything else that Draco might have paid attention to. She discarded her teddy-bear-patterned pajamas for a silky black negligee (the only one she had and never used) – and mussed her hair up nicely (to get that just-out-of-bed look even if she was up an hour early to set said look in place). This time, Draco would be _speechless _and not be making fun of her pajamas.

She sat in bed, not knowing what else to do but wait for the knock. Or the Floo – whichever method of transportation Draco had chosen to get to her flat that morning.

She glanced at the clock hung on her bedroom wall.

_8.00 a.m. sharp._

Her heart sped up greatly, and her breath hitched in her throat.  
>"Breathe, Hermione, breathe," she told herself as she tapped her foot impatiently, "Draco would be here any moment now."<p>

_8.05 a.m._

_8.20 a.m._

_9.30 a.m._

_10.15 a.m. _

Still no sign of Draco. Or Draco's perfectly-shaped arse, either.

She finally stopped waiting for Draco after the time showed a little past noon.

_Where was he? Is he alright?_

Her mind panicked.

_What if he was avoiding me now because he knows I fancy him? What if he found it extremely disgusting and – and – weird oh god, that's why he – oh no, oh no, oh no. Oh, shit._

She paced around her bedroom floor, hand flat against her forehead.

_What if something came up? I hope he isn't hurt. Should I owl him? No, no, no that would seem like I'm too desperate. _

"Okay," she said firmly, "I'm just going to go about my daily routines like nothing happened. Just like any normal day."

And that, she did. She made breakfast – or rather lunch for her extremely hungry stomach, read the Muggle newspaper, sorted out her mail, cleaned the entire house and walked into her kitchen during tea-time for some marble cake.

Just then, a loud tapping against her window stopped her in the middle of munching her marble cake. There, outside her window was Satan in the form of an owl.

It was just a really, _really _scary-looking owl – watching Hermione as if it could see straight into her soul and knew all her deepest darkest secret (a secret which her mind hadn't yelled out yet). Hermione cautiously moved to the window and opened it for the owl. It landed on the table, and watched her like _that_ again. Hermione just stared at it for a moment and after she was sure that it wouldn't attack her or turn into a demon, she relaxed, and she didn't even realized that she got all tensed up because of a bloody owl. She grabbed an owl treat and handed it to the owl, who was still watching her with those judgemental eyes, and it let the envelope it carried drop onto the table and snatched the owl treat – still maintaining eye contact with her. Then it spread its wings, making Hermione take a step back and it flew out the window.

"Goodness," Hermione shook her head and moved to grab the envelope. She ripped it open, and at the first word, her heart fluttered a little.

_Granger,_

_I apologise for the late notice. I know I was meant to turn up today, but after your findings of the Otis case last night as well as mine, I had sent them back the office as Kingsley had requested daily reports. However, after sending them off a couple of extremely-free Aurors had offered to put the pieces together and voila, word was sent out and the plan to capture Otis was carried out the first thing this morning. I had managed to capture the imbecile and he now awaits trial. _

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. _At least he's not hurt or anything_.

_I realize that it would not have happened without your help and that ingenious brain of yours. So do allow me to take you out to dinner tonight. Be ready by seven, as I will come by to pick you up._

_Consider this another premise for wanting to take you out to dinner. The other premise, the fact that you fancy me, still stands. I will not take no for an answer. Although, I'm absolutely sure that you wouldn't be able to say no. Because you fancy me._

_DM._

Hermione gaped at the letter, and she felt as if her insides turned to ice out of nervousness.  
>"Are you mad?" she shouted at the letter, and glanced at the clock, "That would leave me with only an hour and a half to get ready!"<p>

Then her eyes fell on another line written after Draco's signature.

_P/S: Then I suggest you get a move on and get ready now, Granger. Time's-a-waistin'._

She laughed in horror and surprise at the fact that Draco had predicted her response so well, and she tossed the letter unto the table. She spent quite a few more minutes just standing there, smiling at nothing – before something exploded in her mind, reminding her that she had a _sort-of-date_ with _Draco Malfoy _and she needed to _get ready._

She immediately ran into her room, picked out her best dress (one that she had and never wore as well), a simple pale pink sweetheart-neckline silk dress that fell to just above her knees, because Ginny had said it went well with her skin tone and gave her an ethereal glow – or some shit like that. Simply said, Hermione assumed she looked nice in the dress, unlike her usual dreary and dull outfit combos she was so used to wearing. She took out a pair of studs from her drawers as well as a simple bracelet and a pair of white strappy heels that was beginning to collect dust already.

She seemed satisfied with the ensemble and snatched her towel. She jumped into the shower and proceeded to shampoo, soap, scrub, shave, and rinse. She didn't spend too much in the shower; she jumped out and began applying light makeup in front of the bathroom mirror, she was on a roll and she warned herself to not stop the momentum otherwise she would begin to mess up – like apply eye shadow on her cheeks and blusher on her eyes (it had happened once before).

She was so incredible with her multi-tasking at that moment, because she applied her makeup with one hand and began drying her hair with her wand with the other. When she was happy with the outcome, she realized she had only fifteen minutes left to get ready. She ran back into the room, not even slightly heeding that her towel had fallen off her in the bathroom.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _she chanted in her mind as she glanced at the clock again.

Quickly slipping into her dress at breakneck speed, she zipped it with her wand – and stopped.

"What am I supposed to do now, what am I supposed to put on now?" she looked around her room, rummaging through her drawers and – she began panicking again, until her eyes landed on the set of studs and bracelet already laid out nicely by the _past _her, and she silently scolded herself. She violently put her studs on and tried to link her bracelet with extreme difficulty (she had forgotten about her wand and what it could do to help her at that time).

Finally finished, she was about to go in front of her full-length mirror to check herself before she heard a loud roar coming from the living room, followed by a 'whoosh!'

That was the Floo.

The clock pointed to sharp seven.

_Draco, Jesus Christ is here! _She ran around the room like an idiot_, I mean, Jesus Christ, Draco is here!_

"Granger?" Draco's voice called from the living room.  
>"Yes! J-just a minute!" She managed sweetly, despite her panic.<p>

She began jogging around the room for Merlin-knows-what, and urged herself to stop, taking a few calming breaths, focusing on her feet as she opened the door –

_FUCK! Where are my heels?_

She turned back and ran to her bedside, slipping her heels on with her wand (she suddenly remembered it again), in lieu of fixing it up the Muggle way. She stood up quickly and walked towards the mirror to check her reflection, as she had intended –

"Granger, did you die in there?" Draco's voice came from directly outside her door.  
>She ignored Draco and looked at herself from her top to bottom.<p>

_I suppose this will do_. _Heck, what am I saying? All this after only an hour plus? This is a fucking masterpiece!_

She grabbed her purse and walked towards the door.  
>"Granger, you -"<p>

Hermione opened the door, revealing Draco Malfoy, whose serious face slowly turned into mild surprise, before settling for a genuine, disarming and charming smile.

"Granger, you look beautiful," Draco stated, smiling at her as he looked at her.  
>Hermione blushed.<p>

_I had better, I went through hell the past hour and a half.  
><em>"I mean, thank you, Draco," she said stiffly, ignoring her thoughts. Draco shook his head and his smile became a lazy one.

Hermione took the chance to study Draco. He was clad in his favourite – all-black. Except for his tie. He had on a black silk shirt, topped by a black coat, silver tie, a pair of black trousers (that Hermione knew would be _hugging _his arse so beatifically), and black shiny shoes … and let's not forget, a gorgeous, handsome and essential Draco Malfoy face to complete the look.

The image was stirring. And it definitely stirred something within her.

"Why, Granger, do you like what you see?" Draco asked, his expression vacillating between approving and predatory.

_I do, Draco, I really do._

If Draco was surprised that Hermione had referred to him as Draco in her mind, he didn't show it. He simply smirked and held out his arm.

She gladly took it and willed her mind not to think stupid thoughts anymore, now that he was going to be so close to her throughout the night.

_Oooh. Close._

Draco raised an eyebrow at that and told Hermione before they Apparated to "control yourself, Granger."

They arrived at a quiet, romantic restaurant that had dim lights and hanging flowers everywhere – a place that certainly reminded her of her breakup with David. Bastard took her to a nice, expensive restaurant to break up with her, the nerve! What did he expect her to say, "oh no, darling, I will be fine with this breakup because this is a very beautiful restaurant, really."?

She only realized that she had been zoning out until they arrived right in front a pleasant-looking smartly-dressed waiter.

"Mister Malfoy," he bowed lightly, and gestured towards the inside of the restaurant, "Welcome. Shall I show you to your table?"  
>Malfoy nodded and we followed, and Hermione was distinctly aware that her fingers were still around his arm, and neither made a move to let go. She smiled a little at this.<p>

Unfortunately, things that made Hermione smile never really lasts, because at that moment she had to let go of him to take her seat. She sat down opposite him she managed to suppress a very tragically nervous giggle.

Malfoy made the order for the wine and the waiter nodded and left.

There they were. Sitting opposite each other, eyes locked. Draco looked at her with _that _unfathomable expression again and his lips parted as if to say something –

_Oh my, is he going to say something romantic? _She thought, and his lips began to move. His lips.

Oh lord, the thought of his lips was exceedingly befuddling, especially since aforethought lips was currently moving – currently speaking to her – _what? What's he saying?_

"I said, Granger, do control your impetuous thoughts now that we are in public," Draco repeated casually, as the waiter came back and poured them their wine.  
>Hermione rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine after thanking the waiter.<p>

"That's a little difficult to do when you're really under a spell," Hermione said matter-of-factly.  
>"I'm sure," he said, deadpanned, "As interesting as your innermost thoughts may be, let's talk about what you want for dinner."<p>

The waiter flashed the table with a poorly concealed grin that he was still so valiantly trying to hide.

"You're so funny, Draco," Hermione smiled sarcastically.  
>"I know," he said, and he told the waiter what he wanted.<br>"I'll have the – Herb-Crusted Fillet Mignon, please," Hermione said and laid the menu down for the waiter to take.  
>"Steak, Granger?" Draco said, looking impressed, "I never would have thought. I thought you were those vegetarian types, seeing how you seem to be so adamant in making a change in the world, what with that elf organization thing you had going on at school … what was it, <em>spew<em>?"  
>"It's S.P.E.W., wow, you people never get it right," Hermione said dejectedly, but suddenly lit up, "Hang on, you knew about what I did?"<br>"Of course I did, I know many things about you, Granger," he purred her last name again and she couldn't help but wonder how it would sound like if he purred her given name.

"Oh, really? Like what?" Hermione challenged.  
>"You fancy me," Draco said and flashed a triumphant grin, before taking a sip of his wine.<br>Hermione sighed heavily.  
>"Oh, come off it, will you?" she said, "You wouldn't have known if it wasn't for this blasted spell."<p>

Hermione was almost surprised at the fact that she was discussing the fact that she fancied the pants out of Draco so openly, especially to Draco himself, and considered it a good thing. After all, the sexy git wasn't that bad. In fact, she rather enjoyed his company. Alright, she enjoyed his company _very much_.

"Heavens, no, Granger," Draco said, "I knew long before the Weaslette cast the spell on you."  
>Hermione's eyes narrowed, "And must I ask how?"<br>"You do know the phrase 'action speaks louder than words', do you not?" Draco explained, "Well, your actions are pretty _bloody _loud to begin with, Granger. In fact, you're rather blatant about the whole thing."

Hermione flushed red.

_I can't be that bad._

Draco gave her a pointed look and she looked away, shaking her head and muttering 'git' under her breath.

"So, what's all this?" Hermione gestured towards the restaurant, and between the both of them, "Is this some elaborate scheme to make fun of me?"  
>"Of course not, Granger. How low do you think I am?"<p>

This time, it was Hermione's turn to give him a pointed look.

"Ah, Granger, I am wounded," he pressed his fist to his chest in feign hurt.  
>"So, tell me, why?" Hermione pressed, ignoring the silent question at a corner of her brain – asking why Draco was saying her name so many times.<p>

Draco watched her for a moment.  
>"Later, perhaps. Our food is here," he said.<p>

The waiter came by and set their plates down in front of them, but Hermione ignored it.  
>"<em>Draco<em>," she said in a warning tone.

His hand shot out across the table and landed gently on hers.  
>"Later, Granger, I promise. For now, we eat," he nodded and let go of her hand.<p>

Hermione stared at the spot where his hand had been and felt it burn – nicely, of course – and wondered if it was just an exaggeration of her imagination. She shook her head and began eating, with Draco conveniently ignoring her loud thoughts of _'wow, this is so delicious', 'sweet holy Merlin, this is orgasm of the mouth', 'oh no, it mustn't finish so fast!' _and '_let me now eat so slowly as to cherish this steak from heaven'._

They had chatted a long while after dinner was finished, and got to know each other better (or worse) even throughout dessert. They had shared laughs, opinions, debated on some issues and it was somewhere in the middle of Hermione's second round of her Chocolate Lava ice-cream brownie that she found herself admitting that she _really liked _Draco. Shit, she was positively _in love _with the git already.

She knew that when she had described her crush on Draco to Harry, she had thought that she was already half in love with Draco – and now the other half added to that and it now germinated into a full-blown feeling of being utterly, helplessly arse-over-tit in love with Draco.

_But of course, Draco does not need to know that_, her thoughts reminded her as she watched Draco take a sip from his wine glass.

"Need to know what, Granger?"  
>"That, umm, that this dessert is extremely delicious."<br>"Please, Granger. Your thoughts were giving away so much more for the past two hours, you were – what did you say, positively _orgasming _right now," Draco said.

Hermione stared at him, thinking about how unfair it was for Draco to say 'orgasming' in that way.

_Good Lord, were we here for two hours already?_

"Almost three, actually," Draco informed her.  
>"Wow," she breathed.<p>

None of her dinners with dates ever lasted that long. She looked around and found that they were the only ones left in the restaurant.

"We're the only ones here," Hermione said.  
>"Indeed. Perhaps, it is time to go," Draco replied, but his eyes were questioning.<br>"Yes, perhaps it is," Hermione agreed, feeling a slight pang of gloom at the thought of this lovely night ending so soon.

Draco had asked for the bill, and he stood up, offering his hand. Her heart lurched for a bit and then she took it. He hoisted her up to a standing position and closer towards him. She was staring directly at his lips, remembering the kiss they shared the other day – then she felt the familiar pull of Apparition.

When she opened her eyes, she was back at her flat, in the middle of the hallway.

They remained still, the same position since when they had left the restaurant earlier.

Hermione thought they really ought to move, because being this close to him, being able to smell him and being able kiss his lips – and make it look like an accident if she wanted to - became too tempting. Hermione's heart was drumming in her chest and she feared that it was going to escape through her mouth and land on Draco's face.

Self-conscious, she moved out of his grasp first. She took two steps back and pointed towards the kitchen.

"You … tea?" She was going to ask him if he wanted tea but with the way he was _looking _at her, it short-circuited the idea and the words died a swift death.

She opened her mouth to try again, but in mere seconds, Draco had taken a long step towards her and slammed her against the wall – and she would have banged her head against it if Draco's hands weren't already pillowing it for her with his hand – while his other hand snaked around her waist and his mouth landed on hers.

It was aggressive, powerful and it burned with such intensity, and fire, and passion. Hermione could not help but shiver pleasantly and melt into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and neck. Draco's tongue reacquainted itself with hers, wrapping around hers, teasing, and – _oh sweet Jesus, _Hermione couldn't think at all because Draco was doing amazing things with his tongue.

The hand that Draco had at the back of her head slowly trailed down the side of her face, down to her neck, to her collarbone, down her arms, waist, hips – before he tugged at her leg, lifting it up slightly to wrap around his waist.

She felt something warm and hard – but only partially – but she didn't need to do anything before Draco's other hand snaked down to lift her other leg and wrap it around him – and he _pressed _and Hermione groaned, because _yes, there, right there_.

He fit so snugly between her legs and Hermione groaned some more at the awareness. He never stopped kissing her, and moved against her, and pressed against her in a way that was so tantalizing that they were practically having sex with their clothes on. It was so tantalizing that Hermione felt like she could just melt and evaporate.

She thought the kiss was ahh-mazing, but it diminished to pettiness compared to _this. _

"Granger," Draco hissed, pulling away from the kiss, and Hermione almost followed his mouth, "Bedroom?"

"What?" Hermione croaked, unable to think _at all_.  
>Draco managed to chuckle, and asked with a seductive lilt, "Would you mind moving this to the bedroom, or would you rather just remain here?"<br>"Yes, yes, bedroom. Whatever," she said helplessly, eyes still unfocused.

_Now get back to what you were doing,_ her mind demanded.

"I mean, what the hell are you doing?" Hermione asked as Draco suddenly let go of her.  
>"Taking you to the bedroom," he said and carried her bridal-style to the bedroom, gifting her with pecks every now and then.<p>

_Oh, okay._

She was then unceremoniously dumped unto her bed, but that was okay because in mere seconds, Draco was deliciously pressed against her again. He kissed her thoroughly once more while caressing every inch of her skin – and she never wanted it to stop.

She wanted to touch him, to feel him, to slide her fingers across his skin but –

_Too many – too many fucking clothes, _her mind hissed.

Draco tore his lips away from her and looked at her.  
>"Clothes can't fuck, Granger," he said breathlessly.<p>

It didn't matter, because Draco's fingers skimmed down her legs before unfastening both her heels and throwing them, then he lifted Hermione a little, and unzipped her dress before sliding them out of her form and tossing them haphazardly somewhere. Hermione didn't bother as much; she all but pulled and ripped at Draco's clothes.

She was about to complain about the difficulty of taking Draco's trousers off, until Draco licked a stripe from her collarbone all the way up to her chin. Her breath hitched.

"Good, Granger?" He asked.  
>"I – I – umm," she tried.<p>

_Fantastic._

Draco smirked and continued to kiss and lick his way down – and when he reached her lower stomach, Hermione bucked so wildly Draco thought she might launch completely off the bed. She was going to explode like a _fucking Chinese firework_.

She was torn between wanting to shove him away with all her might and clinging onto him for dear, dear life.

_Just shag me already!_

Draco wordlessly obliged, and then there was not a single piece of clothing left on either one of them. He entered her slowly, and cautiously – careful not to hurt her. And when he was fully seated inside of her, he stopped – breathing heavily in effort to control himself, matching Hermione's, whose breathing was likened to that of a steam engine.

"Move, Draco," Hermione said breathlessly.

He did, and he held nothing back. Hermione started thrashing mindlessly, and her hands curled, skated and dug into Draco's back and she was so close, so close –

_Draco, I love I love I love I love I love I love –_

And then her whole world turned white. She arched uncontrollably and clung harder still to Draco, all the while chanting his name like a prayer.  
>Draco soon followed after, biting into his lower lip and letting out a low growl of, "<em>Hermione<em>."

He lay on top of her, both trying to calm their breathing. Draco was breathing into her neck and she was drawing lazy, random circles on his back.

And after a truly amazing night, they fell into a deep slumber.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione stirred, feeling as if something was watching her.

She slowly opened her eyes, and met with grey orbs staring at her. She smiled a little and he managed a lazy one in reply.

"So," Hermione wasted no time.  
>"What?" Draco said, tracing her arm.<p>

"So what's the whole purpose of the dinner thing and all?" Hermione grinned.  
>"I fancied you back," Draco replied calmly.<p>

Hermione smiled wider, and then frowned.

"Fancied? What do you mean?"

Draco sighed and ceased his ministrations, pulling his hand back to his side. He watched her with a serious expression.

"Because after last night," he answered gravely, "I'm not so sure anymore."

**Teehee! Cliffie! :D I am evil, I know, but I love you readers for reading and reviewing. It means a lot and it keeps me going.**

**That was my first time writing a love scene, don't bite! :O**


	4. Chapter 4

_What d'you – what does that even mean?_

Draco just stared at her for a moment. Had this not been a serious moment, Hermione would have gladly salivated over the image before her – Draco with his mussed up hair, naked – save for the fact that he had only a miniscule amount of blanket covering his _ahem_, not-so-private-anymore-after-last-night parts, and with just the right amount of sunlight hitting his face it made him look almost angelic, or devilish. Either way, it was the same. He could have been the fallen angel Lucifer himself, for Lucifer was goddamned beautiful and he became the devil, the master of temptations …

"Draco?" Hermione prompted quietly.

Draco blinked at her, took a really deep breath and shut his eyes. Hermione felt a sense of dread at that, and she swallowed. Heck, even her mind went quiet, and everything around her seemed to be standing on their toes – cupboards and toilet bowls included – seemingly waiting to hear and see what Draco would do next.

When Draco opened his eyes, Hermione almost gasped at the unfamiliarity she saw in his eyes. It wasn't like the usual grey she was used to seeing all this while – it wasn't the same full-of-mirth and warm look he had always been giving her. This time, it seemed as if it was cold, far, distant, glassy … uncaring, even.

"I need to go, Granger," Draco said, and started to get up, grabbing the sheets with him and he wrapped it around his lower body.

Hermione felt something pierce her heart.  
><em>Granger? It's back to Granger now?<em>

Draco didn't look at her, only dressed in complete silence. Hermione sat up and watched on, agape, not really knowing what to say or do at the moment.

_What's going on? Why did he say that? Why –_

"Well, Granger," Draco said _politely_ – and to Hermione it sounded like something one would say after closing a business deal – and he smoothed down his clothes, refusing to meet her eyes, and instead focused on her shoulder, "I'll see you at work."

With that, he opened Hermione's bedroom door and shut it behind him. A few seconds later, Hermione heard the distinct pop of Apparition.

Hermione's heart fell down to her knees.

_What the fuck is happening, what the fuck is happening, what the fuck is happening –_

She felt so hurt, so confused – and she felt so cold, so very bereft, so alone and cast out. She felt so many things at once and her heart ached so bad that it started to give her a headache. What was going on? Was that it? Was she just a one-off? Why did he leave, just like that? And – and the way he looked at her earlier on! What was that all about? And the way he said what he said … it seemed as if he said, "Pleasure doing business with you, Granger!"

It stung, and it made her feel so … it made her feel as if she was just tossed away.

There were so many questions flooding her mind, and for once she couldn't take _that_ much of thoughts in her mind and her eyes began to sting with tears.

"What the fuck, Draco Malfoy?" she shouted to no one in particular and began to sob into her hands.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

"You look like shit, 'Mione," Harry stated blatantly when he popped into her office the next few days.  
>"Why, thank you, Harry," Hermione said disconsolately, "It's this new makeup I wear, it's called HBDM."<br>"HBDM?" Harry asked.  
>"Hurt By Draco Malfoy."<p>

Harry smiled sadly at her.  
>"I see. In all honesty, you should stop wearing it because it's doing <em>nothing<em> for that lovely face of yours."  
>Hermione grinned at him.<p>

"Has the git tried to talk to you?"  
>Hermione shook her head.<br>"Sent you a note, at least?"  
>Again, Hermione shook her head.<br>"Well, okay. Have you seen him around?"  
>"No, not really. I only see him from far, and it – ah, it just really doesn't matter," Hermione said, "If that meant something – if <em>I<em> had meant something to him he'd have done something by now or whatever."

Hermione waved her hand in front of her, as if to erase all her thoughts on the matter.

It hurt terribly to think that she had been wrong about him, about the whole thing. It hurt to think that she was foolish. She spent the couple of days after the incident feeling hurt and confused simultaneously.

It didn't help that her head kept replaying bits and pieces of her moments with him that night in the most random of moments. During meals, during work, during showers … she'd suddenly get images from that night, _Draco's breathless call of Hermione's name_, the _tender, tender kisses_, _the way his fingers slid and skimmed all over her skin_ … It confused her heart as well because it would flutter and then ache, and it frustrated Hermione to no end, so much that she couldn't concentrate on anything. She ended up slamming the table, tossing her paperwork all over her house and office out of frustration.

She was hurt because of what he did, and confused about what he said – he had said that he fancied her back, and then said he wasn't so sure after that night, and then he left abruptly. What the hell?

_Well, fancying doesn't mean anything, you know? It could change_, her idiot mind supplied.

Harry kept quiet, and Hermione was thankful for that. She was thankful that Harry didn't second that thought and provided more examples of 'passing fancies' because she _really _didn't need it right now.

_What made him change his mind? Was that just it, he just fancied me and thought he might as well have a taste and get it done and over with? _

Hermione's head sunk into the desk.

_What was it? I didn't shag nicely?_

Harry burst out laughing at that.  
>"What?" Hermione said, not bothering to look up.<p>

"I'm sure you shagged nicely, 'Mione," Harry said, "Malfoy's an idiot. And the sooner he realizes it, the better."  
>Hermione made a strange sound at the back of her throat which sounded like, "Hngh."<br>"Look, 'Mione," Harry said, and he began to get off the chair, "If it's killing you so bad, then go and confront him, talk to him. Get your answers; straighten things out once and for all. I don't like seeing you this way."

Hermione looked up at that and gave Harry a hopeless expression.

"Come on, 'Mione," Harry walked over to her and placed both his hands on her shoulders from the back, and he leaned in to whisper into his ear, "Don't do this to yourself."  
>Hermione sighed.<br>"Now, I've got to go. International Portkey leaves in fifteen minutes. Wish me luck so that I will win against the Greeks!"  
>"You don't need luck, Harry, you're just damned good," Hermione said sincerely.<br>"Thanks," Harry gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and before he left, he said, "Sort it out, you."

Hermione waved him off and sunk back miserably.

She had wanted to confront Draco so many times, after she spotted him in the office but she didn't know what to say, where to start … It was bad enough that her relationships never seem to work out. She can't possibly handle another rejection, can she?

It had been almost a week since she had last spoken to Draco, or had any form of contact with him – and it was killing her, she knew.

_And it doesn't help that you're arse-over-tit in love with him._

"Shut up," she told her mind. She was sick of going through these emotions and thoughts day by day and she knew that the only way to get rid of them was to speak to Draco, but she was so _scared_. So scared of him dismissing her again like he did, scared that he would say that he never thought of it as anything, scared that he was going to say that it was just for fun …

Therefore, she tried to drown out her fear by telling herself that _she didn't do anything wrong, why should she do something about it first?_

And she waited, and waited for Draco to do something. And the wait made her want to crawl into a hole and … _die._

Well maybe not die, per se, but go brain-dead and shut down for a while, just to get rid of these emotions and give herself a breather. She would not take broken-heartedness literally, because if it _was_ taken literally, Hermione's heart would have _literally _broken into pieces, there would be blood _everywhere_ and her whole body would stop working, and she'd, well, _die_. She would not let Draco have the satisfaction of making her die out of heartbreak.

Stupid Draco.

_But you still love him_, her mind sneered at her.

_Oh, shut up. If it weren't for you this wouldn't have happened,_ she countered firmly.

_Excuse me? You mean if it weren't for the 'spell', this wouldn't have happened? _Her mind argued.

_Same difference. If you weren't so – so – so … this wouldn't have happened._

_Well, darling, it would be my duty to remind you that if it weren't for US, you wouldn't have experienced how it felt to kiss Draco Malfoy, and other things you've always only dreamt about,_ her mind said firmly.

Hermione groaned.

Again, the onslaught of memories of that night began to attack her.  
><em>Stupid, stupid Draco! Also, stupid, stupid Hermione! Draco, you –<em>

There was a knock on her door.  
>She immediately straightened up, and her heart began to beat faster.<br>Was it Draco?

"Come in," she said, struggling to make herself look busy.

The door opened.  
>Hermione's heart sank.<p>

It wasn't Draco. It was only his secretary.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," she said, smiling timidly.  
>"Good afternoon. Yes, how can I help you?" Hermione said, trying not to sound so <em>exasperated<em>, so defeated and so disappointed.

"Oh, it's just that Mister Malfoy -" (at the mention of his name, Hermione's heart skipped a beat) "- asked me to get the Eckhart case file from you. It's urgent, apparently."  
>"Oh," Hermione said blankly, her eyes downcast. "Right."<p>

She was about to get up to retrieve that _blasted _file – the _blasted, blasted_ file that apparently received far more attention and urgency from the heir of Malfoy compared to Hermione. At that thought, she stopped in her tracks because then, something snapped in her.

She turned to Draco's secretary.

"You know what, tell _Mister_ Malfoy, that if he wants that file, to get it himself," Hermione announced resolutely and crossed her arms.

Draco's secretary squeaked and went wide-eyed at Hermione.  
>"B-b-but -"<br>"But what?" Hermione sighed, feeling another headache coming on.  
>"But I'm his secretary … that's what I do, fetch his files if he needs me to do so …" the secretary answered, looking very worried.<br>"I know, I know. But this time, make an exception. Tell him to get it himself," Hermione said, "And don't worry, if he yells at you, you tell me."

The secretary nodded and left Hermione's office. Hermione smiled triumphantly.

_Now, this is the perfect opportunity. Draco wants that file badly, apparently. And to get it he has to come here to get it. He'll have no choice but to see me. And I will take the opportunity to bring that day up. Yes, yes. Perfect. Clever, clever Hermione, if I do say so myself. Why, thank you very much._

She tried to calm herself down, and prepare for when Draco would come through her door, and she mentally went through her speech in her head.

There was another knock on the door and Hermione held her breath.  
>"Come in," she answered in her best calm voice.<p>

The secretary stumbled into her office instead, and Hermione could not hide the way her face dropped.

"Oh, umm, sorry, Miss Granger, but Mister Malfoy said he doesn't really need it, not anymore. It's not that urgent," the secretary squeaked, "And he said he's busy at the moment."

Hermione's eyes narrowed into slits.  
>"<em>What?<em>"  
>The secretary squeaked again.<br>"Well – well, that's what he said … when I told him that y-you asked him to get it himself …"  
>"The <em>bastard<em>!" Hermione roared, getting up from her desk. She ignored how the secretary flinched at the fact that Hermione had just called her boss a bastard, just because he didn't want to get some file. "How dare he do this to me? After all that's happened!"

The secretary looked more confused by the second, and she gave Hermione a look which screamed, "Really, it's just a file."

"Draco, Draco, Draco!" Hermione yelled, "You coward! Do you really not want to see me? Is it that bad?"

Hermione roared again, like a dragon about to eat an entire village. Or in this case, the dragon was about to be eaten. A Hermione was about to eat a Draco.

She stormed out of her office, leaving a bewildered secretary in her office.

_I'll show him, that idiot! How dare he do all this? Don't want to see me now, huh?_

She must have looked murderous because everyone who had seen her coming immediately stayed out of her way. And they all knew, an angry Hermione wasn't good at all.

She marched her way to Draco's office, and didn't even bother knocking before kicking it open as hard as she could.

"How _dare _you, leave me like a bloody one-night-stand, like a tramp you got off the streets, Malfoy!" she shouted into the office, walking straight ahead to stop in front of Draco's desk.

Draco, behind his desk, looked shocked only for a moment before masking his face into his usual calm one.  
>"Granger, please don't shout," he said, "What's all this about?"<br>"What's this all about? _What's this all about_?" She repeated, "Really, Malfoy? You want me to tell you what all of this is about?"  
>"Well, that I do, though not now, I am much occupied," he said nonchalantly.<br>"What the _fuck_, Malfoy! You have no idea what sort of _hell_ I've been through these past few days after what you did! The nerve! You sodding idiot! You just leave, and don't even make an effort to come and see me to _talk_ about what had happened, instead you sit here like the giant arse that you are, and when I make the first move to come and talk, you tell me you are _much occupied_?"

Draco watched her.  
>"Well, yes, I am having sort of a meeting with the Head Aurors," Draco beckoned to the side of his office. Hermione turned and saw a group of well-built, uniformed men, seated at the side of Draco's office. They were all equipped with a parchments, files as well as quills. And they were all looking at her curiously, no doubt at her sudden barging-in and deranged outburst moments earlier. "The Head Aurors of Spain, Japan, Germany and America."<p>

Hermione's eyes widened.

_Holy sodding tomato shit._

Draco winced at that, and Hermione shut her eyes as well, knowing that her thoughts echoed throughout the office.

"Well, umm, hello there," Hermione said to the other Head Aurors, and they all either waved or said hello back friendlily, "So sorry to interrupt."

"It's alright, young lady," an older man said, "Say what you need to say."  
>"Oh, no, no, no. Bad idea," she laughed nervously, "I will just, umm, wait for Draco to finish."<br>At this, she turned back to Draco who was shaking his head in amusement.

"Yes, Draco?" Hermione asked.  
>"Yes what?" He raised his eyebrows.<br>"You'll come and see me as soon as you finish? Yes?"  
>Draco took a deep breath before he answered, "Yes, Granger."<br>"Good," Hermione nodded and smiled one last time at the Head Aurors before leaving Malfoy's office.

Hermione let out a series of curses on her way back to her office and she resisted the urge to rip her hair off her scalp out of embarrassment.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione didn't even realize that she had dozed off until a loud slam from another office woke her up. She lifted her head and wiped off the drool she had collected on her desk and pulled her (thankfully not ripped) hair back from her face, and she looked at the time.

It was almost six p.m.

She had dozed off for almost three hours, and her back was aching. She had trouble sleeping at night, because thoughts of Draco haunted her most of the time. Her mind would go into over-drive, making getting a decent night's sleep almost impossible.

She glanced at the time again and she shook her head, feeling overwhelmingly sad. It was almost six, and everybody left work at five - which meant that Draco had had an hour to show up here, to come and see her, but he didn't.

_He's not coming_.

Hermione's eyes began to water, and she quickly busied herself by arranging the scattered paperwork on her desk. She stood up, feeling the tears get heavier and heavier in her eyes, and she stuffed some files into her bag to take home.

She came across the Eckhart file, and out of rage, she flung it against her office door. It hit the door with a dull 'thunk', and the paper flew and were strewn everywhere on the floor.

Just then, the door slammed open, revealing a shock of blond hair. And the face of Draco Malfoy.  
>She immediately turned around, arms crossed, willing her tears to stop forming – adamant on not letting Draco see her like that.<p>

"Hmm," Draco said from the door, "What's all this, Granger?"  
>"There's your stupid fucking file," Hermione said acidly.<br>"Why, thank you, Granger. Why are they on the floor, if I may ask?"

Hermione turned.  
>"Because I was aiming for the door – imagining it had your stupid face on it!" Hermione shouted.<br>"I see," Draco said, and he completely came into her office, and shut the door. He took out his wand and flicked it at the mess on the floor, and the papers immediately got organized and huddled together into the file, which Draco dropped unto the guest chair.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about, Granger?" Draco said, walking towards her desk.

_Granger, Granger, Granger. I wish he'd stop it with the Granger!_

"Why, it is your last name, is it not?" Draco stated.  
>"It wasn't what you called me that night," Hermione hissed.<p>

Draco looked up from her desk, and met her eyes.

"Granger, I -" Draco began but was cut off by Hermione.  
>"Tell me why you did it."<br>"Look, I," he sighed, "I don't really know."  
>"You don't know?" Hermione repeated, somehow feeling even more hurt, "Well, go fuck a tree, Malfoy."<p>

Draco's eyes narrowed.  
>"If you're calling yourself a tree, then yes, I did fuck you."<p>

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger.  
>"So that was it? Just a fuck? Just a shag, a one-off?" Hermione asked.<br>Draco stared at her.  
>"No."<br>"So what was it?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. "Tell me, _please_, so I can finally get over it – so I can get some decent night's sleep without all these questions bugging me, _please_!"  
>"I don't know what you want me to say, Granger."<br>"You said you fancied me."

Draco nodded.

"And what happened the next day? Did it change?"

Draco nodded again.

"What, you didn't fancy me anymore after that night?"  
>"That's not it," Draco answered.<br>"So tell me, Draco!"  
>"I can't."<br>"Why not?" Hermione asked.  
>"I just bloody well can't, okay?" Draco said firmly.<br>"But why the fuck not?" Hermione pressed on.  
>"I can't!" Draco raised his voice, "I can't <em>say<em> it! It's difficult for me to say it!"

Hermione sagged.

"You won't even try?" Hermione asked sadly.  
>"Granger …" Draco began.<p>

Hermione looked at the floor.

Then, something hit her. An idea. It hit her in the face like a train at full speed.  
>She immediately looked back up at Draco, her eyes bright and her face looking almost surprised.<p>

"Granger?" Draco enquired quietly.  
>Her lips curved into a mischievous smile.<p>

"Granger, I really don't like the way you're smiling right now," Draco said, eyeing her suspiciously.  
>"Oh, it's okay, <em>Draco<em>," Hermione purred, "It's okay if you don't want to try … because …"

Silence.

"Because? Because what, Granger?" Draco asked impatiently.  
>"Because," Hermione drew out her wand and pointed it at him, "Because, <em>Cogitationes amplificare<em>!"

Draco's eyes widened.  
>And Hermione smirked at him.<p>

_What the fuck? _Draco's voice boomed throughout the office, but his lips weren't moving.

"Granger, how dare you, remove this spell at once!" Draco seethed at her.  
>"No, Draco, on the contrary, I will remove this spell as soon as I get what I need from you," Hermione grinned, twirling her wand with her fingers.<br>"Damn you, Granger," Draco glared at her.

"So tell me, Draco, so we can all just put this to rest. Why did you leave, just like that?" Hermione asked.

Draco's glare didn't shake Hermione a single iota, she concentrated on hearing his thoughts.

_Because I was scared._

"Scared? Scared of what?"  
>"Granger -" Draco started, but Hermione raised her hand and shushed him.<p>

_I was scared of my feelings for you._

Hermione's heart fluttered.  
>"Why were you scared? You told me you fancied me," Hermione said.<br>"I did," Draco answered himself this time.  
>"What happened then? Did that change the very next day?"<br>"No," Draco said.  
>"So then?"<p>

Draco sighed.

_I'm in love with you_.

Hermione's eyes widened so greatly that she feared it would never return to its usual size in their sockets. Her heart was beating so madly that it made it difficult to breathe.

"W-what?" Hermione asked.  
>"I said I love you, for fuck's sake!" Draco practically shouted at her.<p>

"So then -"  
>"You don't understand, Granger. I have never felt this way, ever. I didn't know how to deal with it. I grew up in a home that served and practiced everything and anything evil; I wasn't surrounded by all this shit."<br>"You could have told me that, instead of just running off, making me feel like a piece of trash, like I was worthless!" Hermione argued.

Draco met her eyes again.

"I'm not exactly _open-minded _to the idea of being in love, Granger. You know how Malfoys are. But I didn't mean to make you feel that way, you're not that," he said quietly, "I just, I didn't know what to do then."

Silence reigned for a moment.

"I'm sorry. I just panicked," Draco admitted, "Even worse was that I didn't know if you felt the same way."

Hermione frowned.  
>"Huh?"<br>"You see, Granger, part of why I panicked was because I knew you _fancied _me," Draco said, irritated at Hermione's confusion. "I just thought you wanted to get rid of the sexual tension and attraction, because that's what passing fancies are! I didn't know whether you felt more than that or not!"  
>"But I do! I told – I thought that I love you <em>when you<em>, _when we_," Hermione blushed, unable to finish her sentence, attacked by memories of that _passionate, passionate _night again.  
>"You did?" Draco asked, genuinely puzzled.<br>"Didn't you hear?" Hermione blushed even more.  
>"Actually, no, I was busy at the time, if you weren't aware," Draco glared at her.<p>

_Half-aware, I was in Heaven_, Hermione thought, and she immediately cursed herself for thinking that.

Draco smirked at that.  
>"So I see."<p>

"But yes," Hermione said quietly, and despite blushing harder than ever, she met his eyes and said, "I do, love you, I mean. I have been in love with you for a while now."  
>Draco swallowed.<p>

_Me too. The only reason why we started working together was because I suggested to Kingsley that you should be my research partner._

Hermione's jaw dropped to the floor.

"God damn it, Granger," Draco warned, "lift the spell!"

Hermione's smile was threatening to split her face in half.

"Hmmm," Hermione paused, twirling her wand still, "I might, only if you tell me again."  
>"Tell you what?" Draco asked, tone even more irritated.<br>"Tell me that you love me, _again_."  
>"No."<p>

Hermione raised her eyebrows.  
>"Well," she shrugged, "If that's the case then I think I may just keep the spell on."<p>

Draco cursed.  
>He walked around her desk, and faced her completely.<p>

Hermione's heart sped up and she watched Draco.  
>"I love you, Hermione Granger," Draco muttered.<p>

Hermione broke into a grin once more, and lifted the spell.  
>Draco sighed in relief, and Hermione pulled him into a kiss. She kissed him like she was on a mission – as if she needed him to quench her thirst.<p>

"I love you too, Draco Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course, what's not to love?"  
>Hermione was about to argue on that before his arm snaked around her waist to pull her closer, and his other hand cupped her cheek. His mouth came down on hers, and Draco kissed her – a sweet, agonizingly slow kiss that made Hermione's knees turn into complete utter jelly shit.<p>

_Remind me to ask Ginny to lift this spell, _Hermione thought, _and to thank her for discovering it._

**FIN.**

**Happy Easter, everyone! :D**

**And thanks for reading and reviewing! :D**

***gives everyone chocolates***


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